


Heel

by Ningikuga



Category: Atop the Fourth Wall
Genre: D/s relationship, Other, collaring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 18:06:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7372111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ningikuga/pseuds/Ningikuga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Linksano proves his loyalty to Lord Vyce.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heel

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://taekarado.livejournal.com/21601.html?thread=2755681) for the July 2016 TGWTG Kinkmeme fillathon.
> 
> This work is intended to depict the characters/personae, not real people, and absolutely no implications about the people who write and play those characters are intended or should be inferred.

The air of the ship stank of ozone and strange magic. The first would have been homey and familiar, if it hadn’t been for the alien reek of the second.

For the second time in his life, Linksano stood quaking before Lord Vyce. The first time, his name had still been Oscar Schlumper, and he’d been bare moments from fleeing for his life through the cracks between universes like the cowardly vermin he was. If Vyce remembered, he gave no sign of it; for him, it had likely just been an average Tuesday.

Lord Vyce was not quite as tall in the armored flesh as he towered in Linksano’s memory. Perhaps he’d redesigned his boots since then. It hardly mattered; he still had an easy half a foot on him, and Linksano knew what the strength-enhancing systems in the encounter suit could do.

Linksano took a deep breath and tried to steady himself. Wait, how could he breathe in here? Why wouldn’t Vyce keep the interior of his own flagship tuned to his own native reality? Yes, this world was a converting one, but surely the All-Conqueror could maintain a friendly environment by magic or superscience? Linksano let his scientific curiosity distract him as he waited for Vyce to consider his offer; it was better than throwing up, which was the other option at the moment.

The Master of Many Worlds tilted his head just slightly. “I find it curious,” Vyce rumbled, “that two separate antagonists of this world’s Champion should just happen to offer their services to me.”

“He has made many enemies,” Linksano answered noncommittally. He hadn’t expected the robot to have beaten him here. In fact, he still wasn’t clear on whether Insano had repaired the dimension-crossing android or Vyce had. “Some of them are even from his own world.”

“A native informant might be more useful,” Vyce grumbled. “Still, let it not be said that I turned down an offer of genuine assistance out of pride. What do you want out of the bargain?”

“Access to a properly-stocked lab,” Linksano ticked off on his fingers, “a governorship of a province of the planet once you’ve conquered it, and the champion’s little blue robot once he’s defeated.” His fingers closed into a fist; he shook it so it wouldn’t quake on its own. “I owe the little binary bastard one.”

Vyce inclined his helmet in the other direction. “Android, is that last acceptable to you?”

“He’s welcome to the other me,” Mechakara replied. “My business is with Linkara and his magical artifacts.”

Fleetingly, Linksano wondered whether part of Mechakara’s deal with Vyce included the All-Conqueror teaching him magic. He certainly had enough, but he didn’t seem like the sort to have the time or patience to take an apprentice.

Vyce nodded very slowly. “Very well,” he pronounced. “I accept your offer of allegiance to me. Step forward, scientist.”

Linksano willed his feet to obey Vyce’s command; for an instant, they remained frozen to the floor, like ice. When they moved, he nearly stumbled. “I obey, my lord,” he murmured.

“Yes,” Vyce agreed. “You do, and you will. The robot bears within it its marker of obedience to me, upon its metal and its programming. You, however . . . for your submission, I require a more external mark.”

Linksano swallowed. “What might that be, my lord?” he squeaked. Images of branding irons and the stench of seared flesh flashed through his mind.

“Kneel,” Vyce commanded, “and I will show you.”

Linksano sank to his knees; between their sudden weakness and the resonance of that voice of command, he wasn’t sure he could have possibly done otherwise.

A gloved hand came down on his head and turned his face upwards, towards the reflection of his goggles in the mirrored visor. A shade shuffled into his peripheral vision, holding something out in both hands, something long and thin in black and chrome.

Vyce took part of what the shade was holding and held it in front of Linksano’s nose. A steel ring dangled from its center; a smaller steel buckle glinted at one end. The rest of it was a strip of the same black textured material that made up Lord Vyce’s suit, flexible but almost unimaginably tough.

“Swear your fealty to me upon the mark of your servitude,” Vyce thundered.

Linksano reached out and pressed the collar to his chest, the O-ring over his heart. “I pledge myself, body, mind, and soul, to your service, my lord,” he murmured. _Forgive me, Wayne,_ he begged silently. _There’s no other way._

Vyce chuckled, low and slow. “Kiss it,” he ordered, and Linksano raised the buckle to his lips. “Very good,” he muttered, fastening it around Linksano’s throat, slipping one armored finger between the collar and Linksano’s skin as he tightened it.

Linksano swayed in place on his knees. His mind had gone nearly blank.

Vyce took the other object from the shade. His hands disappeared below Linksano’s chin; he felt a tug, then heard a metallic click. When the gloves reappeared, one of them was holding a long, slender lead of the same material.

“Once you’ve proved your loyalty,” Vyce purred, “I’ll let you off your leash for a time. For the moment, though, I want you where I can see you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my lord.” The words were easy, automatic. Linksano watched a flicker of pity followed by disgust wash across the robot’s face. Some faraway part of him flushed with humiliation, but it was easy to ignore. If anything, the tempest at the core of him, the madness and the curiosity that drove him, was now curiously still.

It was all strangely comfortable.

“Rise,” Vyce ordered, and it was as if his legs obeyed his master’s orders before his own. “Come here.” The tug on the leash wasn’t necessary, but it gladdened his heart. “Sit.” He sank cross-legged to the floor again, next to Vyce’s throne.

Vyce waved the android over, too. Linksano felt a flash of jealousy, but only for a second. The robot’s markers were code and hardware, not nearly as pretty as his. His fingers traced the collar, and the heat in his cheeks flared again.

Vyce wrapped a loop of the leash around his right hand, reached down with his left, and stroked the back of Linksano’s head. “Now,” he ordered, “I want you two to tell me everything you know about the Champion, in chronological order.”

As the robot began the story of his own creation and rebellion, Linksano leaned into his master’s touch and smiled.


End file.
